More Than Okay
by LonelyValentine
Summary: Bumblebee's crush on Optimus Prime has gone nowhere... until now that the little mech has gone into heat. Tradition dictates that the Prime has first rights to each and every Autobot's reproductive ability. Finally given a shot at the Prime's berth, Bumblebee's ecstatic. Size differences and happy stickiness ahead!
1. Chapter 1

**More Than Okay**

 **x-x-x**

Story #1 in the "Prime's Right" series and a fill to this prompt at Tfanonkink:

REQ: Any - Optimus/Any Autobot - It's Good to be the Prime, Heat Cycle 2016-07-19 07:35 pm

Any Autobot that goes into heat, once found, is sent to Ironhide to be washed, polished, oiled, and then sent off to Optimus' berth for the night. Hopefully the mech emerges the next morning sparked up by the faction leader, who of course by virtue of the matrix is the fittest, strongest, wisest mech out there. It makes sense for him to be the one siring new sparks.

I'd love to see various Autobots being prepared by Ironhide (or some other lieutenant) and then placed in Optimus' berth to await him. Some could be scared. Some could be excited. Some could be unwilling for various reasons (and Ironhide might have to give them some sort of sedative or even physically restrain them). Some could be so excited they can't even wait and go out looking for the Prime, flinging themselves upon him demanding their turn RIGHT NOW!

 **x-x-x**

I don't own the characters; Hasbro does. I've only exploited them for entertainment purposes.

 **x-x-x**

 **Chapter 1**

 **x-x-x**

"There! You look beautiful," declared Ironhide as he gave a few last rubs with his polishing mitt to Bumblebee's plating.

"Do I? You really think so?" asked the young 'bot.

"Prime's going to adore you."

Bumblebee smiled and made his way to the mirror. "I hope he does. It's my first time. Well, my first time in heat. But I've interfaced before so I know what to do. Well mostly what to do. I've never merged sparks before." When Ironhide walked over, Bumblebee grabbed the polishing mitt still in Ironhide's hand and went over himself again, buffing frenetically at an already perfect finish.

"Easy there, 'Bee," Ironhide chortled. You'll rub off your paint doing that!"

The scout laughed nervously. "Sorry. I'm just so... so..."

"Excited?"

"Yeah! Oh I hope we succeed! If we do, oh Primus! We'll have such a great sparkling. I'll name him... Ah... I'll name him 'Chase' or 'Hotwire' or something like that. One of those sexy, strong names."

Ironhide smiled. It was good to see a mech so eager to fulfill his obligation to this particular part of his duties as an Autobot. The last one had been nearly reluctant, clearly thinking about someone else instead of his Prime. He moved Bumblebee's joints about, stretching and folding him as he oiled the scout. "That's a nice idea."

"Thanks, Ironhide. I do hope he likes me in the berth. I want to make him happy, and not just because I'm going to bear a sparkling for him."

Ironhide chuckled at the small mech's confidence in the outcome. "I'm sure he will, 'Bee. You'll at least give him a night to remember."

Ironhide finished up his work and took Bumblebee into Optimus' quarters, leading him into the berthroom and tucking him into the berth. "You might want to get some recharge before he comes in if you can. Prime can go for miles, if you know what I mean," he advised.

"I'll try, Ironhide," said the little yellow mech gratefully, hopping into the berth and making himself comfortable.

Ironhide smiled. "Good luck, 'Bee."

"Thanks again, Ironhide."

Ironhide closed the door to the berthroom and let himself out, sending a message to Optimus. The latest was waiting and all too ready.

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee woke as the mattress on the berth shifted, the massive Autobot leader climbing in with him. Immediately a strong hand roved over his chest plates. He onlined his optics but found the room completely dark. "Optimus?"

"Who else would it be?" rumbled the deep confident voice of the Prime.

"Oh, yeah, I guess." Bumblebee felt hugely embarrassed. "Sorry, I just thought that..."

A pair of lips overwhelmed his own bringing a halt to the apology. Purring, Bumblebee kissed back, and then was suddenly struck by an odd thought. He'd never once seen Optimus' face. Of course there was a lot he didn't know about Optimus, particularly when it came to intimate matters. Even though at least half of the force had shared a berth with him at some point in the past no one talked much about what happened behind locked doors, except that it was completely amazing.

The kiss broke with a gasp from each of them, and Bumblebee daringly brightened his optics, taking in the formerly hidden lower face of his lover. "Optimus..."

"Ironhide tells me that you're very eager for this. But if I go too quickly, or if I'm too much for your comfort range, tell me," he said softly, that large yet gentle hand straying over Bumblebee's waist and thighs.

"I'm very eager... I mean, well... I've been waiting to go into heat for such a long time for you. I can't stop lubricating!" he confessed. "I don't know if it's the heat or if I'm just so excited about what's going to happen."

Optimus smiled at that, and Bumblebee was delighted to see it. He'd never thought of his leader as having a mouth—some mechs didn't—but to now see one on his adored Optimus made him feel privileged.

"Lie back," the Prime commanded.

Bumblebee flung himself back, his head missing the pillow in his hurry to obey, but he quickly reached for it and tucked it under his head and shoulders.

Optimus' hand now drifted to the heated cover protecting Bumblebee's interface array, finding it hot to the touch, and at the slightest nudge it snapped open. Strong fingers circled the rim of the minibot's valve, then one pressed in.

"Optimus!" Bumblebee gasped. The single digit, easily three times the size of one of his own black fingers, filled the hot channel beyond the rim and electrified every sensor there. He immediately began moaning with pleasure as that single digit began to sink in an out of his exceedingly lubricated valve. And then suddenly it was gone, the finger withdrawing and finding a towel to wipe away the residues.

Bumblebee was about to ask what was wrong, or what he'd done wrong, when the Prime moved to lie atop him, crashing his lips against Bumblebee's in another passionate kiss, a long, powerful glossa edging into the minibot's mouth. Excitedly he met it with his own glossa, and the two tongues rolled together unhesitatingly. And then Bumblebee became aware of one more bit of the Prime touching him. Between his knee joints he could feel the tip of a large spike pressing against his plating.

"Are you ready, Bumblebee?" the Autobot leader asked, his voice low and husky with static and need.

Bumblebee tried to contain his enthusiasm, but he'd just realized how much Optimus wanted this as well. "Yes. Please don't make me wait any longer, Optimus," he whimpered.

There was no spoken response. Instead Optimus moved again, shoving apart the little mech's legs and then placing the tip of his spike at the entrance of his valve.

Beneath him Bumblebee trembled and shivered and waited to be claimed as the Prime's mate. Some said one was never fully a member of the faction until the Autobot leader had taken him to his berth, whether in personal desire or in the ritual of the heat cycle. Bumblebee had long admired the Prime, and wanted so much to be close to him—to be one with him and the matrix. He'd made himself available many times before, but the Prime had either missed the offer for its subtlety, or just wasn't interested.

But now he definitely was; the Prime wanted him without question. And hopefully they would conceive, which would only bring the Prime closer. He'd seen what happened when other unattached Autobots had provided for the faction—they'd moved into the Prime's quarters and been given a regular supply of top-grade energon as well as a lot of affection from the sire of their newsparks. Once for a while Optimus had three mates living under his care in this ritualized form of bonding.

And Bumblebee wanted that. Oh how he wanted that.

Optimus rolled his hips, impaling the yellow scout.

Bumblebee cried out, his hands scrabbling at Optimus' sides.

The larger mech froze, his spike now deep within the rippling mesh of the valve. "Are you all right? Does it hurt?"

"I'm all right," Bumblebee sobbed. He'd anticipated and expected what was to come, but it had been nothing like the real thing. "I just... I just need a moment to adjust to it. You're... really big."

"If it's too much..."

"No, no. It's not too much. It's just... just amazing." Bumblebee's grimace of surprise and pain morphed into a smile. "I want this, Optimus."

"I do too, Bumblebee," said the Prime affectionately.

Elated, the yellow mech shifted himself a little, vented a few times, and then reached up to grip the large frame balanced above him on knees and elbows. "All right. Just go slowly at first."

"Of course." Optimus placed a kiss on the top of the smaller mech's head, the only part of Bumblebee's he could reach with his lips right now due to their size difference, and he began to rock his hips slowly, moving very little inside of his partner.

Bumblebee moaned in delight—it felt absolutely incredible. The Prime was everything the rumors suggested. Bumblebee's whole frame shivered as the charge in his array began to build and the lubricants flooded into his valve anew. The pure physical pleasure was everything he'd hoped for. The sensations left his processor torn between wanting to overload quickly and wanting that building charge to keep building forever. But as Optimus' shallow thrusts grew longer and deeper, Bumblebee knew it would be the first of those options. He could feel his valve squeezing tighter and the tingling within it threatening to overspill. "I'm close," Bumblebee whined.

"Good," rumbled the Prime as he picked up the pace.

"So very close," came the second warning.

Optimus ceased his thrusting and shifted position yet again, this time sitting on the berth with the minibot impaled on his spike facing him. "Open for me, 'Bee," came the command.

Obediently the armor panels over Bumblebee's spark chamber split and slid away, revealing the hard steel case of his soul. The panels there spiraled away in turn, revealing the life force within. And Bumblebee locked optics with his leader, a look of unquestioned devotion and vulnerability on his face plate. "I love you Optimus," he bleated with all conviction.

The Prime said nothing but opened his chest as well, where two bright lights shone in their respective chambers—that of the Matrix and that of his own spark. Both suddenly irised open like a pair of eyes, and the light within flooded out, engulfing the tiny mech held in the Prime's hands.

Bumblebee screamed out in ecstasy as overload slammed into his systems with the force of an explosion, intense enough to white out his vision as forces beyond his everyday understanding assaulted him with divine pleasure. The charge that had built in his interface array, the light of his own spark, the power of Optimus' spark, the will of the Matrix, and the charge built up in Optimus' spike collided and spun in a tremendous vortex of sensation and power.

Optimus was drawn in as well, the great mech shaking and howling in the depths of his own orgasm.

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee onlined to find himself sprawled across the Prime's chest, both of them lying on the berth now. His processors were still dizzy and reeling, and it took a few tries to right himself. When he did there was the unmistakable squelch and gush of oily wetness as some of the excess transfluid drained from his valve. And then he realized that he was still joined with the Prime; the huge silver spike remained inside of him. The Prime's chest was still open as well, though the Matrix and his spark chamber had closed up. Their lights winked and wavered teasingly at him, and immediately Bumblebee wondered if somewhere in that amazing, overwhelming moment his own spark had remembered what to do even if he hadn't. Hopefully the seed of a new life was already taking root inside of him.

Bumblebee lifted himself off of Optimus, snapped his array shut, and tried to roll onto the bed. But the Prime rumbled and moaned sleepily, an arm seeking out his lover. On finding him, the arm encircled Bumblebee and drew him back to his upper chest.

Close to the Prime's face again, Bumblebee pressed little kisses all over the faceplace before him, at least until the Prime's optics onlined and the big mech's rarely seen lip components curled into a tender smile. "Bumblebee, are you okay?" he asked.

"More than okay," sighed Bumblebee, settling in against his leader once more.

"Are you ready for more?"

"Am I ever!" chirped the little yellow mech enthusiastically.

 **x-x-x**

 **More to follow in Chapter 2**

 **x-x-x**

 **Check out my other "Prime's Right" stories on this site for more fills to the above prompt.**


	2. Chapter 2

**x-x-x**

 **More Than Okay – Chapter 2**

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee was so excited that he could not stop shaking or talking, and Ratchet was becoming more and more irritated. "Bumblebee please! You need to hold still for this!" he finally snapped at the wriggling mech on his exam table.

"I'm sorry, Ratchet. It's just that... It's just that I'm going to carry for the Prime! Isn't that exciting? I'm going to have a sparkling for him! I'll bet he turns out bigger than I am. I'm sure he wi...mmmph!"

Bumblebee's drivel, worthy of Bluestreak, was cut off by Ratchet slapping his hand down onto Bumblebee's mouth, silencing the chatter. "Bumblebee, hold still!" demanded the medic as he removed his hand.

The yellow scout nodded. "Sorry Ratchet. I'm just so... so..."

"...so excited? I know. But right now I need you to shut up and hold still."

"I'll try," said Bumblebee, attempting to relax for the medic. He did his best to lie there quietly as Ratchet hooked him up to the equipment. The initial scan had come up positive. The confirmation scan had as well. Now it was time for details.

"Have you 'faced anyone besides Optimus since coming into heat?" Ratchet inquired, staring at the monitors.

"I've been asked to, but I never did. I've only been with Optimus. He's taken me to his berth on three different nights in fact," he said proudly.

Ratchet smiled crookedly. Ironhide had told him about how eager Bumblebee had been—an unusual thing for a minibot. Most smaller mechs were terrified of being crushed, or split in two, or burst from within and Ironhide spent a lot of the preparation time assuring them that Optimus would be very gentle with their comparatively delicate frames. He reassured them that the Prime had 'faced plenty of minibots before and none had come out with more than a few paint scuffs. In comparison, Bumblebee had been terribly eager, and had even asked for more matings while most mechs made their first night their only night. Once was all that was required, leaving some chance for a friend or a lover to sire a newspark.

"Well 'Bee. Everything looks good. There's a large protomass coalescing in your gestation chamber. And the spark signature reads very strong."

Bumblebee squealed in delight. "Oh! Ratchet! That's so wonderful! I can't wait to tell Cliff!"

"Do you want to do all the announcing yourself? Or shall I make it public?"

Bumblebee broke into a huge grin. "I want you to. Tell everyone! Tell the Decepticons even!"

Ratchet just shook his head.

 **-x-x-x-**

Within a breem everyone knew that the little yellow scout was carrying for the Prime. And on leaving the medbay half a cycle later, Bumblebee found various friends and co-workers gathered to congratulate him in person. Optimus was there was well, standing next to Ironhide. "Well congratulations, Bumblebee, and thank you," said the big mech with a practiced gentility.

"Oh! Optimus!" Bumblebee cried and threw himself around his leader's leg. "This makes me so happy. I love you so much!"

There were a few cooed 'aww's" from the gathered mechs as well as a few snickers at Bumblebee's expense. Optimus himself looked a bit embarrassed by the statement. Most of his carriers fulfilled their role with a quiet dignity. Bumblebee was flinging himself into it like an excited sparkling, embracing it with an over-the-top enthusiasm.

Elita-One suddenly stepped in from seemingly nowhere and held out her hand. "Bumblebee, if you'll follow me please," she said pleasantly. "We have a lot to discuss."

Bumblebee turned his head, his face falling in disappointment. "I was hoping for a little time with Optimus right now," he said unhappily.

Optimus reached down and picked up the yellow scout beneath the arms and lifted him to eye-level, admiring him a moment before cradling him against his broad chest. "I know how you're feeling, but could it wait until tonight? I have to get back to the conference room and finish up with Prowl and Ultra Magnus."

Bumblebee tried not to look as disappointed as he felt. Right now he just wanted to hold onto Optimus and never let go. His crush on the Prime, at long last consummated, had become a huge need to be as close as physically and emotionally possible to Optimus. "All right," he sighed. Please 'comm me? Meet me when you're free?"

"All right, Bumblebee." He set the scout back down.

Elita-One immediately took Bumblebee's hand and gently guided him through his well-wishers, though before the Prime was out of sight, Bumblebee turned back to look at him as he headed off it the opposite direction with Ironhide. He sighed and watched the Matrix-bearer walk away.

"You'll see him tonight," said Elita-One sweetly, placing her hand on his shoulder and turning him back to the direction they had been heading.

Bumblebee drew himself up. "You're right. He is a busy mech. I just have to be patient."

"Primus knows I do," smiled Elita-One.

 **x-x-x**

A message pinged into Optimus' inbox from Smokescreen even before he reached the conference room.

::Want in on the betting? 35 to 1 that he chooses not to move in with you.::

::Mmmm...no. Not after that display. Anything else?:: came the response.

::7 to 1 on a femme. 15 to 1 on a split spark.::

Optimus chuckled to himself. ::Put me down for five credits on a split spark. I'm feeling lucky.::

 **x-x-x**

Elita-One ushered the newest carrier into her office. It was about ten or twelve times a vorn now that Optimus Prime bedded an in-heat mech, and about three or four times a vorn he found himself a sire. The numbers were so much lower now than they had been in the early days of the war when there was an Autobot in heat every meta-cycle it seemed. Energy shortages, dwindling morale, and dwindling numbers had taken a serious toll.

They sat, Bumblebee noting how comfortable and plush Elita's office was. There was a thickly padded couch for visitors to sit upon rather than the usual spartan chairs. Curtains hung at the windows instead of the usual vertical blinds. The lighting seemed softer and more welcoming than functional. Upon one corner of the desk sat a glassy sculpture that reminded him of the long gone Crystal City.

"So Bumblebee, the question we have to answer now is do you have a friend or a family or a lover that you wish to raise your sparkling with? Or do you wish to surrender your sparkling to the faction once it is birthed?" began Elita One, opening up several documents on her computer console.

"I have friends, but none immediately that would be interested in helping me raise the bitlet. But I am! I'm so excited about this!" he added enthusiastically.

Elita One smirked. The yellow scout had been nothing but zealous since going into heat. She entered a little information into the computer.

"Will I be able to move into the Prime's quarters now?"

Elita One chuckled. "That was my next question. You do have that option if you would like, and that would be for the duration of your carrying period and through the birthing, until the sparkling is a meta-cycle old."

"Oh yes! I do want to live in the Hive!" The 'Hive' was the nickname for the series of rooms given to the Prime's mates—a safe, calm place they could live through the gestation and post-birthing periods, sheltered from the war beyond the walls. It wasn't exactly a harem, but continued physical relations between the carriers and Optimus were encouraged for the benefit of all parties. Elita-One's berthroom was there was well.

"There is plenty of room for you in the Hive if that's what you'd like." This was all formality of course. It was pretty much a given that the scout would be moving in.

"Could I move in right away?"

"Of course, Bumblebee." She brought up more documents and loaded them onto a data pad for the scout. "Take these," she said. "They'll tell you a lot more about the arrangements and you can read them at your leisure. I'll have someone here soon to help you move your things into your room." She studied her monitor again. "Mmm... I'm going to put you into the room next to mine. It has a nice view of Iacon out the window."

"That would be wonderful," he smiled.

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee fussed again with the covers of his new berth. And what a new berth it was. It was far larger than he needed, probably so that the Prime could share it with him on occasion, and while the bedding on it wasn't quite as cushy as that of the Prime's, it was much better than the bare slab he slept on back in the barracks. No wonder most mechs opted for the Hive. A private room. A padded bed. Peace and quiet. Plenty of fuel. Close to the Prime and his beautiful consort.

Bumblebee checked his chronometer again. The Prime was supposedly off-shift now. He'd not commed though. The meeting had to be over, didn't it? And then Bumblebee sighed, realizing how impatient his thoughts had become. Optimus had better things to do than chase after his mates.

He went back to the desk and rearranged his tiny little assortment of framed pictures and souvenirs—the few luxuries he'd kept through his service. Out on the outskirts of Iacon the rest of his belongings were stashed in a buried crate, waiting for the end of the war. Suddenly a message popped up from the Prime.

::I'm heading home now. I shall see you shortly.::

Bumblebee squeaked happily, engine revving and hands fluttering over his chest. And in two breems there sounded a heavy knock at the door. The door opened and the Prime leaned in. "May I enter?"

"Of course! Of course!" said the excited minibot. "Oh I'm so happy to see you again," he said flinging himself against the faction leader's leg once more.

Carefully, Optimus crouched and the hugging became a series of kisses over his facemask, until he lowered it and allowed the minibot access to his lips. And when the kisses subseded, Optimus smiled and stared into the glittering blue optics of the yellow mech. "I'm very proud of you," he said, and the smile on the minibot's face grew.

"Thank you, Optimus," he squeaked in delight.

The Autobot leader's hands stroked the yellow metal tenderly as he stared into the smaller mech's face, causing Bumblebee to wriggle with untaken pleasure and to tremble in heightened desire. Not that any encouragement was needed. Even though the heat-cycle had ended after their second mating, there had been no change in this one's attitude. It happened sometimes that a mech would come along completely smitten with the Prime, or just the concept of the Prime. Sometimes it was admiration. Sometimes it was an authority kink. Sometimes it was religious fervor. But whatever the reason, it made for a loving and willing partner the duration of the intended's reproductive phase.

"Optimus? Would you like to recharge with me tonight?" Bumblebee offered politely, obviously having practiced sounding timid and vulnerable.

From what he'd learned of the yellow scout, the yellow scout was anything but timid and vulnerable. "I could, but don't feel that you have to offer because you're living in the Hive now."

"I'd like it if you did, so we could be together—the three of us. You, me, and our sparkling." He looked up at Optimus with pleading optics and hands over his midsection.

"All right Bumblebee," said the Autobot leader with a soft smile. "If you'd like me to, I will." He picked up his small mate and held him closely, kissing the bright helm and the pointy little sensor horns. "But first I have to refuel and take care of a few things, so if you'll have a little more patience? But then I'll be yours until morning." He carefully lay the small mech down onto the berth.

"All right Optimus," Bumblebee sighed.

"You warm up the bed while I'm gone. I'll be back in less than a cycle."

"It'll be steaming by the time you're back," giggled the scout as the larger mech pulled the bedding up around him.

Optimus smiled and leaned over to kiss the minibot once more. "Good. See you soon."

"I'll be here," said Bumblebee, hoping he looked as sexy as he felt right then.

The Prime strode out and Bumblebee sighed happily, settling himself into the berth's padding. Going into heat was the best thing that had happened to him since joining the Autobot forces.

 **x-x-x**

 **More to follow in Chapter 3.**

 **x-x-x**

 **Reviews and messages appreciated. Positive feedback turned what was going to be a one-shot into five chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

**x-x-x**

 **More Than Okay – Chapter 3**

 **x-x-x**

Elita One sat in Optimus Prime's lap, their optics locked on each other, mouths meeting, hands entwining, hips rocking together gently, still fully connected. They'd been like this for the past two breems, joined together intimately as they both cooled down from a spectacular mutual overload. Despite his duty to each intended, Optimus made sure to give his mate equal time in his berth and his affections. She herself had only come into heat twice but they interfaced frequently to keep their close connection at full strength.

Unexpectedly they heard the door slide open and both turned. "Ironhide?" Optimus called out, looking over Elita's shoulder.

Two blue optics appeared low in the doorway. "Ah, no. It's me, Bumblebee," came the submissive little voice.

"Are you all right, Bumblebee?" Elita asked concernedly of the new carrier He'd not even been in the Hive a full orn yet. "What do you need?"

Bumblebee took a few steps forward, turning his head to the side somewhat shyly at seeing them wrapped around each other. "I was... well... I heard you two, and it sounded like you were done. But... I know that Optimus likes to go about four or five times, so I wondered if... well... well, if I could help out if Elita-One was resting."

"Bumblebee?" Elita asked. Was he seriously thinking that?

"It's all right, 'Lita," said Optimus, patting her shoulder understandingly. And then he addressed the scout. "We weren't done. We were just taking it easy for a bit," he said confidently. "But thank you for being concerned about my needs."

"Anything for you, Prime," said the yellow mech, his tone going from embarrassed to chipper. He turned to go, but then looked back from the doorway. "If you do need anything, just 'comm me. I'm right next door."

"Bumblebee! Wait," Elita One called to the scout, who had disappeared out the door but popped back in before it closed.

"Yes?"

Optimus shuddered. He knew where this was going.

"Bumblebee, come here," said the pink femme smoothly.

Apprehensively, Bumblebee approached the berth. "Yes commander?"

"Please, we're in private. Call me Elita."

"Yes, Elita?" he asked, now standing at the foot of the massive berth in her quarters.

Careful not to disconnect their coital joining she limberly turned around so that her back was to the Prime's chest. "Maybe I am a bit tired. Would you like to take over for me for a round or two?" she asked sweetly.

Optimus held his vocalizer. This was his consort's game now.

"But it's your time with him. Are you sure? I mean, I'd love to if the Prime needs more, but I don't want to be taking away from you." He tried his best not to look too eager, and he certainly didn't want to be shorting Elita One any of her due.

Elita One leaned back against Optimus and looked up at her mate. "You don't mind, do you, love?"

"Of course not," he purred softly, his bared face rubbing against the side of her head. He might be commander in chief of the Autobot forces, but in private he was hers to command.

Bumblebee could only stare as she spread her thighs and drew up her feet, a position shift that all too clearly revealed their intimate union. A twinge of fire spread through his interfacing array as he gaped at the prime's large spike where it disappeared into Elita-One's valve, the girth spreading the mesh of her lining, vivid dark pink folds glistening with lubricant and transfluid. He'd become aroused on hearing them through the wall. But on entering the room and catching a whiff of the ozone and spilled transfluid he'd found himself lubricating. Almost nothing was going to discourage him from an invitation at this point. And then suddenly he realized how inappropriate it was that he was staring regardless of how enticing the sight was. He turned his optics away once again.

"I could use a break, and then when I've rested we'll trade places again," said the femme with more practicality than the situation called for.

"Is... is this okay with you Optimus?" Bumblebee asked, amazed that Elita One would give him a turn though she was not yet satisfied.

Optimus sat up a little straighter. "It is, Bumblebee. You're correct about me. I am usually wanting four or five overloads."

"So please feel free to stay and help out," Elita said encouragingly, her fingers sliding down to caress the mesh of her valve where it swallowed the huge spike, the folds twinging with her touch.

Bumblebee's arousal came out with a rev of his little engine. If only that were _his_ valve upon the Matrix-bearer's spike. "If it's all right with both of you, I would like to."

Elita dismounted with a sly smile and Optimus lay back, his spike erect and gleaming and ready to be claimed again.

Trembling with excitement, Bumblebee climbed onto the berth and allowed the Prime to position him. Only instead of atop his spike, the yellow mech was placed onto Optimus' mouth. Optimus' glossa extended and lapped at the panel sheltering his valve, only to chuckle on tasting the lubricants seeping from the panel's edges. "I thought I would have to warm you up a little, but it seems you're very ready.

"I am,"said Bumblebee, gasping and sounding embarrassed again. "I'm very ready."

"Go ahead and open up. Let me taste you properly."

Bumblebee slipped open the panel, slightly nervous that Elita was watching so closely. In fact she'd barely taken her optics off of him since calling him to the berth. But with the staring had come a smile... until now. Her lips parted as Bumblebee revealed his valve entrance for the Prime, and the Prime pulled the yellow mech down onto his mouth. And then she moaned delightedly as Optimus' glossa slid up into the dripping wetness of mech above him.

Bumblebee moaned as well as he was penetrated by the long, wriggling glossa, the dark grey organ thrusting inside of him obscenely. "Does that feel good, Bumblebee?" asked Elita, shifting again to prop herself up on one elbow between the Prime's knees.

The scout could barely answer, the sensations were so intense. No previous lover, nor the Prime himself, had penetrated him this way before. Sensory nodes he hadn't known existed were suddenly making themselves very obvious as the serpentine tip of the glossa sought them out. "Yes, yes!" he whimpered.

"Good," she purred, her hand reaching out to half-heartedly tease the Prime's spike, rising in the foreground of the scene.

Optimus continued to thrust his glossa into Bumblebee's slick valve, putting on a good show for his consort. It had taken some time to realize how much of a voyeur she was. At first her 'discrete observing' of his mating with the in-heat Autobots had just seemed a security and safety precaution. But after time he'd come to realize how much pleasure she herself took from watching him interface with the others. Normally she spied upon them from the cameras hidden about his berthroom, but on occasions such as this one she was thrilled to be present. Whenever Blaster went into heat—which he did with about twice the frequency of most mechs due to being a host mech—every mating was a threesome. Blaster was something of an exhibitionist which fit in perfectly well with Elita's particular kink.

"You make such wonderful noises, 'Bee," purred Elita, her fingers stroking up and down her mate's spike.

"Oh! Th- th- thankyou," he stuttered without really thinking, the glossa inside of him winding him up with deeper and deeper spirals.

"Are you ready for some of this?"she asked teasingly, making a show of her fingers rubbing against the huge silver spike between them.

"I... I am, if you're done with it," he managed.

"Come and get it," she purred seductively.

Bumblebee, with what coherence remained, dragged himself off of the Prime's tongue and crawled down the large frame to where Elita beckoned, her hand at the base of the spike angling it toward him. "Go ahead," she instructed. "It's all yours." And with that she helped him to get into position and lower himself onto it. His vents hitched as his valve stretched to accept the new visitor. Thankfully over the past two orns he'd become used to the Prime's girth and this part of the act was no longer the worrisome moment it had once been, and it wasn't long before the Prime was fully inserted.

Large hands reached in from behind, grasping the small mech around the waist. "Optimus?" Bumblebee gasped as the hands shifted him a couple times. And then one hand moved from his waist to beneath one of his wide-spread thighs.

"Mmm..." hummed Elita approvingly, and she drew back.

Optimus lifted the minibot up and down, sliding him over his spike as he might use his own hand to stimulate it.

"Ohhhhhh," groaned Bumblebee, relaxing into the smooth reverse thrusting, completely at the whims of the Prime and his consort. He switched off his optics and relaxed, letting them do as they willed, losing himself if the heat of union and the growing pull of the Matrix on his spark. It was wonderful... so wonderful. To be held and accepted and loved by this trinity. And before he even realized he was close he overloaded with a long keening whine, energies both mundane and divine rocketing through his trembling frame. When he collapsed, overwhelmed by the surge of power and emotion, four hands caught him, two pink lips kissed him, and one bright golden light consumed all three of them.

 **x-x-x**

 **More to follow in Chapter 4.**

 **x-x-x**


	4. Chapter 4

**x-x-x**

 **More Than Okay – Chapter 4**

 **x-x-x**

The days went on, and Bumblebee found his middle expanding to accommodate the new life growing inside of him. He was still the only carrier in the Prime's nest, which meant he often felt lonely. He wondered what it had been like in earlier days when often there were multiple mechs and femmes residing in theHive, all heated and cooing over the bitlets inside of them. Ironhide and Elita-One must have been kept awfully busy back then, perhaps to the extent that they missed their time on the battlefield. Though Bumblebee couldn't imagine Ironhide giving up a fight to see to one of the intended. He probably had continued to put war ahead of his seeing to the in-heat Autobots.

Bumblebee spent his time reading up on pregnancy and parenthood. Other times he just watched old holovids. Sometimes he volunteered for monitor duty. Sometimes he worked on deep polishing himself to a gloss he'd not known for many vorns. But best of all were the nights he entertained the Prime in his berth. His life had become a pleasnt, quiet, and somewhat romantic vacation from the war.

And then three and a half deca-cycles into his pregnancy the Decepticons launched a major assault against Moonbase One, and suddenly the entire Iaconian installation was very quiet and lonely as most everyone was deployed to the moonbase's defense and then caught up in the aftermath.

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee 'commed Elita-One. ::Elita? Could you bring me some energon? My supply is already depleted and I'm almost empty myself.::

::Already? And again? Bumblebee, you really need to pay attention to this. You know your systems need a lot more right now, and it may not be as the charts say what you'll need for your frame-type.::

::I know. And I'm just not used to this demand. I think I'm drinking four times what I used to.::

Elita-One gasped. ::Four times! Bumblebee? That can't be right! When's the last time you were in to see Ratchet?::

He thought for a moment. ::Three orns ago? About that?::

::Three orns!:: Elita-One choked. Bumblebee, you know you're supposed to go see him every hundred cycles!::

::I know, but the medical staff has been so busy. I thought I could at least help by staying out of the way. And besides the need to fuel so much I've felt just fine. Well, as fine as any mech carrying does.::

Elita-One sighed this time. ::Wait there. I'll be in with some energon and then I'm personally taking you down to the medbay.::

 **x-x-x**

When Elita-One entered Bumblebee's room she was stunned by the sight before her.

Bumblebee lay on his side on his berth, his back against the cushions. His abdomen had extended dramatically, the overlapping plates no longer overlapping but spread apart with freshly formed protomesh between them. His chestplates had been stretched apart as well though not to the same degree. No wonder Bumblebee had not emerged from his room for the past orn. He probably could barely move in his condition.

"Bumblebee! Look at you! You're huge!" Elita-One said in shock.

Bumblebee chuckled as his placed his arms around his expanded frame. His fingertips just met in the middle. "I know. I'm definitely carrying for the Prime," he said proudly.

"There was never any question of that, but you shouldn't be anywhere close to this big at this stage."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I am a minibot though. I should look 'bigger' from the pregnancy than a normal sized mech, right?"

Elita-One took one of the two cubes she'd brought, went and sat beside the mother-to-be on the berth, and helped him to drink by keeping him upright as he held the cube. "I'll call Ironhide to transport you to the medbay. I doubt you're walking well with all that forward weight."

"I'm not," Bumblebee agreed, patting his swollen form.

Ironhide knocked on the door just as Bumblebee finished fueling, and on entering his jaw dropped open. "Bumblebee! You're... Oh Primus! If I didn't know otherwise I'd think you were carrying for Omega Supreme."

"Am I really that big?" Bumblebee asked Elita-One.

Ironhide folded his arms over his chest. "You do know who Omega Supreme is, right?"

"Of course I do," Bumblebee answered. How could he not know? He could see the huge guardian's post from the window of his room in the Hive.

Ironhide transformed and opened his cargo compartment doors while Elita-One helped Bumblebee out of the berth and onto his feet. As soon as he was loaded inside Ironhide took off for the medbay.

 **-x-x-x-**

"Well Bumblebee, congratulations," said Ratchet.

"For what?" asked the yellow scout, his hands absently rubbing at his distended middle section.

"You've got two mechlings filling you. Your size is completely normal for a double pregnancy. It's just that you're a minibot, which makes what's normal for a standard-size frame look huge on yours."

"Twins? I'm going to have twins?" Bumblebee asked, more in amazement than in doubting Ratchet's diagnosis.

"Yup. Seems like the protomass split at about the time of the attack on the moonbase. That would be about the usual time for it to happen if it was going to. I would have caught it then had we not gotten distracted."

"Oh, Bumblebee! Optimus is going to be thrilled!" said Elita-One, her optics glowing joyfully.

Ironhide was grinning smugly. "Optimus did say that he was feeling lucky just after your pregnancy was publicly confirmed."

Bumblebee slumped back onto the berth and his hands pawed at his abdomen as if he could feel the separate bodies inside of himself. "Twins. I'm going to have twins," he said hazily, his optics glowing softly.

"This means I'm going to triple your metal intake and double your mineral intake. You really should have come to me sooner, you know," Ratchet told him.

"I know. I just didn't want to take you away from the mechs that needed repairs," he said sheepishly. "I heard there were a lot of casualties from the attack on Moonbase One."

"I understand," said Ratchet, putting his hands on his hips. "But your carrying is just as important. From now on I'll be checking in on you every three days. And I want you to remain in your berth as much as possible. If you have to be up for anything you're to move slowly. If you need to go anywhere outside of your room, you get Ironhide to take you. Understood?"

"Yes, Ratchet," was the answer.

"Good. Now back to your room." His focus shifted. "Elita-One?"

"Yes?" she responded.

"If you'd give Optimus the news. I'm sure he'll be quite interested."

She nodded at the command. "I'm very sure he will.

-x-x-x-

Bumblebee had lain obediently in his berth since returning from the medbay. He'd read and re-read the congratulatory note from Optimus a hundred times now, brief as it was.

::Bumblebee, Elita-One has informed me of Ratchet's recent diagnosis, and I am deeply thrilled. I have not had the privilege of siring twins for more than a vorn. Please choose names to suit them. I will join you late tonight.::

Bumblebee had fallen into recharge several times in waiting for Optimus Prime, and when he heard the distinctive knock on his door he sat up hastily, and then chided himself for moving so quickly.

The Prime came in and immediately knelt beside the berth, placed his hands on either side of Bumblebee's bloated middle, and then pressed his face against the straining plates. "Bumblebee, I hope you can forgive me for neglecting you the past three orns. The Decepticon attack on the moonbase has been of great concern."

"I understand, and I'm not angry or feeling at all neglected. It was important to keep it from the Decepticons." In truth, he had been feeling somewhat abandoned, but he'd kept countering the feeling with his concern for the lunar base and his fellow Autobots. The strategic value of the location was immeasurable.

"Would you let me try to make it up to you now?" His hand slid slowly over the huge belly and the look in the blue optics was unmistakable. It wasn't the glow of lust or the glint of desire, but the warm shimmer of love and pride. It was the same look he gave to Elita-One. It was the same look bestowed upon his newborn creations.

And Bumblebee was helpless to it.

"Please Optimus. I'm here for you," Bumblebee said, his voice trembling with emotion.

 **x-x-x**

 **More to follow in Chapter 5.**

 **x-x-x**


	5. Chapter 5

**x-x-x**

 **More Than Okay – Chapter 5**

 **x-x-x**

Bumblebee lay back on the table, legs dangling uselessly over the edge, the Prime ever so gently thrusting into him, two large hands cradling the gravid bulge between them.

"I think you can go a little harder, Optimus. I'm carrying warriors... not crystal trees," Bumblebee giggled.

Optimus chuckled. "You're probably right." He sped up his pace and deepened his strokes... slightly.

"Ratchet says it will be less than an orn before I'm ready to pop. He also said that he's definitely going to have to remove them himself rather than to let my frame try to birth them. They're just too big for me to handle on my own."

"He knows what he's doing. You're not the first minibot to have come through here. Now shhhh... just lie back and enjoy this. Don't think. Just enjoy."

"All right, Optimus."

Bumblebee switched off his optics and tried to relax. Since Optimus' return to his berth their lovemaking had been somewhat different and even difficult with huge and awkward increase in his size. The Matrix hummed happily, excited all the more by the newsparks inside of him, but the Prime was so cautious, treating his mate with such delicacy. The wild, unabashed sessions of before had become slow and careful, focusing more on the exchange of spark energy than sexual pleasure. Bumblebee was never left unsatisfied, but he missed the energetic and creative romps that had described the days before and after the pregnancy was confirmed. Maybe after the birthing?

With a sigh he realized that those days would not return, at least not until his twins were born and his frame had recovered and he'd gone into heat again. That could be vorns or tens or even hundreds of vorns. Though perhaps the Prime, now knowing him to be a willing and able mech, would take him to his berth occasionally as a lover.

Optimus began to groan deeper and thrust his hips a little harder yet. "Mmm. You always feel so good around me," praised the Prime.

"I'll always be good for you Optimus," smiled Bumblebee. He could just see the top of the big mech's helm over the mountain range that was his midsection. Less than an orn and he'd be his slender self again, though perhaps then it would be too late to enjoy the view.

To his surprise, Optimus let go of the massive belly in front of him, worming one hand down between them to seek out the catch of Bumblebee's spike housing, the catch releasing without any protests. The silver and black spike extended, and the minibot moaned as fingers guided it up into place between them. At first Bumblebee wondered what the Prime was thinking, but when Optimus began to thrust again, he found the sensitive underside of his spike pressed and caressed between the Prime's hips and the cushion of his own swollen middle. And the feeling was amazing, amazing enough that he was overloading within a couple kliks.

It didn't stop there. The area sensitized by the hot spill of transfluid, Optimus pulled out, gripped their spikes together in one slick hand, and proceeded to stroke them as if they were one unit. In moments Optimus erupted, overloading with a wanton howl, another much larger round of transfluid spreading between them, thick and oily and scalding.

But instead of winding down, this had only stimulated Bumblebee more. As the hand gripping them began to release, Bumblebee whimpered in protest. "Not yet! If you keep going I'll overload again. Don't stop, Optimus. Please don't stop yet."

He suddenly felt embarrassed that he'd begged for it.

But his partner wasn't embarrassed at all, and the hand tightened again, stroking hard as the minibot began to whimper and pant a steady monologue of pleasure.

Bumblebee writhed against the berth, his thighs clenching and unclenching around Optimus' legs, his hands clutching at the edge of the table, unable to stop himself from doing it. His hips bucked even beneath his weight, and Optimus was forced to use his other hand to steady his smaller lover in these deepest throes of physical passion.

Bumblebee's chest suddenly opened as he reached the edge. He overloaded with a loud, painful cry, spraying a third jet of hot transfluid between them as the Matrix flung its own protective plating aside and filled the space about them with a brilliant aura of light and a cascade of electrical sparks. Optimus' back arched and his cry became a scream as the light between them only rose, only to suddenly find themselves plunged into darkness as the light imploded into Bumblebee's spark and gestation chambers.

Stunned and trembling, Optimus stepped to the side and collapsed against the tabletop. Their overheated frames smoked and steamed as the hum of static subsided, hands clasped and fingers folded around each other in pure bliss. But as strange as this time had ended up, everything felt perfect. The two simply rested beside each other enjoying the moment.

When he recovered, Optimus raised himself off of the table and kissed his little mate. "You'll be birthing tomorrow," said Optimus confidently with a satisfied smile across his lip components.

 **x-x-x**

It was a long birthing session, Ratchet trying to go as slowly and carefully as possible as he and an assistant carefully disassembled Bumblebee's distended plating and pulled back the protomesh holding things together. The gestation chamber, dutifully expanded to contain its charges, opened with some difficulty, a huge gush of amniotic transfluid heralding the birth of the twins. Ratchet first removed the yellow one, holding it up for the fluid to drain before placing it into his assistant's hands. The red one came next, receiving the same treatment. The two were placed side by side in a receiving cradle and wiped down gently before being presented to Optimus.

The Prime placed his hands on the side of the cradle, beaming down at them while Elita-One clung to his waist, cooing as she reached for tiny feet with her free hand.

Exhausted from the ordeal, Bumblebee remained on the birthing table, his head turned to watch every reaction from his beloved leader. And to his delight it was only joy that flickered across the deep blue optics as he stared at the two comparatively tiny mechlings meeting their sire for the first time.

"How do you feel?" asked Ratchet, coming around to Bumblebee's side to check on him. A sheet now covered his tattered midsection.

Looking down at himself, Bumblebee grinned weakly. "I have feet again. I thought I'd lost them."

Ratchet chuckled. "You had for a while there, but they're back."

"Will I ever be back to normal?"

"You're middle's a mess now, what with all the left-over protomesh. But we'll clean that up with a bit of surgery and get your plates back into position. Your frame would put itself back together on its own eventually, but it's faster this way."

"What about the gestation chamber?"

"It's already beginning to contract. It knows it's done."

Bumblebee smiled. He'd worried that the recovery would be so much worse.

The sound of multiple footsteps clattered in through the door and suddenly Ironhide and his mate Chromia were there, looking down into the receiving cradle at the newborn twins. "Well look at them! They're so pretty," the blue mech said with awed approval.

"Pretty? Naw. They're gonna be great warriors. Look how well-built they are already," disagreed Ironhide.

"I agree with Chromia," said Elita-One. "They're very pretty. They'll be very handsome mechs, just like their sire," she said, stroking her consort's chest.

"And they'll be great warriors for the cause," smiled Bumblebee, looking over from where he lay.

"What'cha naming them?" asked Ironhide. "I'd better learn their designations now since I'll be yelling them a lot, I'm sure."

"Oh 'Hide. Don't be so mean," Chromia chided her mate teasingly.

"Bet'cha I will. So what are you calling them, 'Bee?"

Bumblebee smiled, optics lighting on the two little frames slowly squirming in the basin. "The yellow one is Sunstreaker, and the red one is Sideswipe."

Optimus looked up with a loving smile for the most recent carrier. "Wonderful names. Names we'll never forget, I'm sure."

 **x-x-x**

 **The End**

 **x-x-x**

Thank you for reading! If you love size difference or younger/older fics, give this a favorite. If you've read all the stories and didn't see your pairing (sometimes a story contains more than one pairing), send me suggestions in a PM (not a review). Maybe I'll be inspired to write another entry.

 **x-x-x**

The "Prime's Right" series in G1 Chronological Order:

Story #6: "Other Options" - Optimus/ Sideswipe-Sunstreaker

Story #3: "Gently. Lovingly. Quickly." - Optimus/ Jazz

Story #1: "More Than Okay" - Optimus/ Bumblebee

Story #2: "Second Place" - Optimus/ Mirage

Story #4: "Want It Now" - Optimus/ Grimlock

Story #7: "Inevitably" - Rodimus./Jazz

Story #5: "Divine Intervention" - Rodimus/ Silverbolt


End file.
